and the second time I realized you were beautiful.
That sounds stupid, but hear me out; your eyes they're perfect your lashes are so delicate like gossamer black frames of thin, long, lady's gloved fingers. I sound crazy, I know But I'm writing a poem about it and Art is a license for madness; So leave me be. I'm stalking pictures of you on the webs of the internet But these golems these flat, lifeless, smiles leave me unsatisfied None of them capture that moment when I was suspended in a state of silent staring like cobwebs in empty, abandoned room corners hanging quiet undisturbed
your voice muted by the screaming in your eyes
as you romantically perfectly delicately bit into that burger.
I wonder how I looked then.
This was a spur of the moment kind of thing...**** me.